


The Work of God

by Sarahkaymcc



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Archangels, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahkaymcc/pseuds/Sarahkaymcc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters life hadn't yet got hectic when Evangeline showed up at the little house owned by Bobby Singer.<br/>Evangeline is a gorgeous archangel with a task from her father, God, to protect the Winchesters and Castiel no matter what obstacle is thrown her way.<br/>Throw an instantly infatuated Dean, a genius Charlie, and a frustrated Sam with a deep, dark secret into the mix, and you have their lives from here on out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The story starts in a damp, rotting house owned by an old, stubborn man known as Bobby Singer. Bobby stood over his desk, fiddling with a vile of, what looked to be, dead man’s blood. An attractive seventeen year old teenager sat tied to a rotting wooden chair in the middle of a red spray painted pentagram, his body possessed by a weak demon that has a very smart mouth.

  
Dean Winchester, a man known for his recklessness and fearless attitude, along with his outstanding good looks, stood in front of the demon, one calloused hand wrapped firmly around a flask full to the hilt with holy water, another holding a half full bottle of beer. Dean had a look of repulse and hatred across his attractive features, his deep green eyes occasionally glancing at his three partners.

  
Sam Winchester, a tall, brooding man, stood beside his older brother, a leather bound book encased in his left hand, in his right one he held a crucifix, for protection. His subtle, pink lips moved with the words he spoke, a Latin exorcism spell, and the more complicated of the many spells. The Latin words escaping Sam’s mouth caused the demon to throw his head back and let out a deep, ear piercing scream.

  
Castiel, a recent fallen angel allowed back into heaven at the request of God, stood beside Bobby, watching the scene unfold in front of him, his face impassive, the dirty trench coat on his shoulders showed his reluctance to looking like a human and washing his clothing frequently. His light blue eyes didn’t even sparkle with the look of justice, the information trying to be collected, but the demon, unfortunately, was being as stubborn as Bobby Singer himself.

  
The air tense, all of the men stood looking down on the stubborn demonic teenager; possessed. The demon’s eyes glistened with humour, his surprisingly full pink lips turned up in a smirk that Dean wanted so badly to slap off of his face, but he withheld himself, leaving the glowering expression on his face growing more prominent by the second.

  
The sound of fluttering wings caused Sam to stop reading the Latin exorcism spell and look to Castiel where he stood next to Bobby, his blue eyes turned to behind Dean’s body, widening more by the second. The demon had even stopped to stare, the same with Bobby, causing Dean and Sam to both swivel on the heels of their feet and see the glowing woman stood confident and tall in the doorway between the study and kitchen of Bobby’s little ‘Bat Cave’ as Dean likes to thoroughly remind everyone.

  
Her mousy brown waves reached to her lower back, half of it resting on her delicate looking shoulders. They all looked at her, glowing, radiant, she was a vision. She wore a simple floor length white gown, the hem of the back coming to a stop just below her hair, and just above her behind; showing off her slender back. The front came up and around her neck, a tie in a bow at the back of her neck, keeping the dress up and over her body, the rest of the dress flowing down her slender legs and pooling at her feet. The part of the dress that attracted the men the most was the singe at the waist, showing off her small, but wonderfully shaped breasts and deliciously tiny waist.

  
Castiel was the first to move, still slightly taken back by the appearance of the angelic woman. His feet moving forward and around the desk, coming to a halt when the woman held her perfectly manicured hand up, stopping him in his place. Her face impassive the same as Castiel’s is ninety percent of the time. Her plump lips painted to a perfect pale pink colour, suiting her skin tone perfectly.

  
The woman took a step forward, her left hand moving down to lift her long, delicate gown from the dirt covered floor, to reveal her lower calf, tiny ankle and white gladiator sandals on her perfectly pedicured feet, the white leather bands circling her ankles and calves, coming to a stop at her mid-calf. She moved towards the demon, stepping inside the pentagram slowly and gracefully, her right hand lifted, fingers reaching out towards him, her eyes set downwards towards his face as his tilts up from its position straight on his shoulders.

  
The woman drags her fingers across the cheek of the boy, the pads of her fingers feeling the growing stubble on his cheek. The whole room is silent, watching the woman, their breaths held in their chests, afraid to release them.

  
To Dean, she looked like a woman in white, with her impeccable beauty and looks of stone, her having not spoken and her robot like movements, but she could not be, she was meant to find unfaithful men and kill them.

  
The woman’s fingers moved from the boy’s cheek to find his chin, her thumb rubbing over his bottom lip and her index finger bent and holding his chin firm in place, the point of his chin resting in the palm of her small, fragile, but somehow strong looking hands. Her bright blue eyed gaze made even the demon weak, but the boy who owned the body was melting into a puddle and leaking through the cracks.

  
The woman moved slowly and gracefully around the chair, her fingers moving with her, dragging along his cheek, to run through the curly dark chocolate brown locks sitting atop the boy’s head. Her feet made no sound as she came to a halt at the back of the rotting wooden chair, the cheap rope wrapped around the teenage boy. If it weren’t for the pentagram, he would have been able to easily get out of the chair.

  
Her left hand dropped her gown, letting it fall to the floor in a heap, her left hand coming up and dragging slowly around the boy’s neck, coming to a stop at his throat, the men watched as she bent slowly, her index finger dragging slowly up and down his prominent Adam’s apple, before her fingers spread and she grasps his throat with force, enough force for him to gasp and splutter, and the men to all release a panicked breath. The woman with a glance up to Dean Winchester drags her lips along the boy’s earlobe and whispers on single word.

  
“Leave.”

  
The woman releases the boy and takes a single step back, straightening her posture as the boy in front of her, throws his head back and a cloud of black smoke erupts out of his throat, sending the demon right back to its place in hell.

  
Dean stepped forward with an appalled look on his face, his eyebrows knitted together in a look of complete and utter distraught. His pretty, pink lips pursed as he gestures madly at the slumped boy in the seat, not dead, just unconscious.

  
The woman’s left hand lifted her dress as she stepped carefully back over the red spray painted lines of the pentagram, her small body moving over to the front of the desk, just beside Castiel, who takes a fearful step sideways. The woman picks a flaking leather bound book off of Bobby’s extensive amount of books piled on the sides of his rustic, vintage desk.

  
“Oh, calm down,” She speaks suddenly, looking up at the men before her with a sharp, blue eyed gaze. Bobby having moved from behind the desk to beside Sam, whom was still holding John’s diary beneath his finger tips.

  
“Why should I be calm?” Dean shouts, his green eyes blazing with anger, completely forgetting that he was incredibly attracted to the woman in front of him. “You just exorcised our only hope at getting answers.”

  
The woman looked up at Dean, her eyes dragging down his body, following the contours of his muscles and the beauty of his being, of the meat that contained the wonderfully fragile human soul.

  
“He didn’t know anything,” The woman informed Dean, pushing her body off of the desk and letting the leather bound book fall from her fingers and send it crashing into the desk. Dean’s green eyes turn furiously to look at the beautiful woman in front of him, as she lifts her gown and walks around to the boy in the seat just beginning to awaken.

  
“Who are you?” Castiel speaks, loud and confident, but the moment she turns to look at him with her piercing gaze he faltered, his confidence diminishing.

  
“Oh, come on, Castiel,” She laughs, her smile soft and beautiful, the same as her laugh. “I thought you would be smart enough to recognize me.”

  
Castiel digs, hard. Looking closely at the woman’s face, to try and identify who she was, knowing a body so beautiful couldn’t be a human.

  
Dean, Sam and Bobby watch with attentiveness and curiosity, wondering who in the world is this vision of a woman. They were about to give up hope of Castiel coming through for them, just when he gasps and throws a finger up at her, making her laugh lightly at his demeanor.

  
“Evangeline,” Castiel mutters, looking at her as she throws her hands up in the air and smirks brightly, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

  
“Bingo, we have a winner,” She murmurs, turning to look at the teenage boy pulling at the restraints in the chair, his bright green eyes trying to convince someone to let him go, but none of the men step up to the podium.

  
Evangeline walks towards the chair with angel like grace, her feet coming to a stop in front of the chair, the boy throwing his head back to look at her towering figure, but soon turning down to look at her as she crouches in front of him. He is mesmerized as she looks up at him; her fingers lay on top of his tied ones.

  
“Hello, darling,” Evangeline purrs, her right hand coming up to press her palm against the boy’s cheek, her fingers rubbing slow and seductive circles on his cheek, causing the boy’s breath to be caught in his throat. “I’m Evangeline, what’s your name?”

  
“Matt,” The boy purrs obediently back, his hands pulling at the restraints. Evangeline chuckles, bringing her hand back from his cheek to his hands, her slender fingers curl underneath the ropes only to snap up and rip the ropes from his hands, soon going to his feet and then his torso.

  
“Wait,” Sam interjects, his hands coming to push Matt back into his seat, causing Evangeline to send him a glare. “He is still ours to deal with.”

  
“Afraid not, Sammy,” Evangeline grins, her nose crinkling in the slightest, being the cutest thing Sam had ever seen. “I have instructions I must follow.”

  
Sam shakes his head with anger, his eyes narrowing considerably. Evangeline’s follow, her slender hand’s clenching into a fist by her sides, sending the house into an earthquake like fit. Castiel interjects, his hands coming to tear Sam away from Evangeline, having Sam not being aware of what Evangeline is.

  
“I wouldn’t anger her, Sam,” Castiel informs Sam, but Castiel being Castiel, he spoke louder than he probably should and Dean, Bobby, Matt and Evangeline heard him too. “She’s an archangel.”

  
This sent everyone’s jaw right to the floor, their eyes turning to Evangeline, as she stood with a proud, smirk on her lips and a glisten in her eyes.

  
“The very first,” She glows, her left hand leaving her hip and reaching for Matt, who was sat looking up at Evangeline. “Raphael, Gabriel and even God himself have nothing on me.”

  
Evangeline’s eyes find Matt’s as he comes to a stand in front of her, her hand finding his cheek once again, her fingers spreading themselves across his stubble covered chin. As Dean watched closely, he could distinctively see that she was literally glowing, her grace lighting up inside of her. Evangeline smiles brightly as she takes a step towards Matt, looking him right in his glazed over eyes.

  
“Go home, love,” Evangeline murmurs, as her plump, pink lips find his, giving him a short, chaste, but somehow passionate kiss. Matt vanishes the moment Evangeline’s lips leave his, vanishing into thin air.

  
“Why are you here?” Dean groans taking a large sip of his beer that he had forgotten was in his hand. Evangeline turns on her the heels of her feet, turning to look Dean right in the eyes with her piercing blue eyed gaze. Her pretty lips turn up into a playful smile, her blue eyes lighting up in amusement.

  
“I told you, Dean,” Evangeline murmurs, closing the distance between her chest and Dean’s with one simple stride, her fingers grasping his bicep lightly which tense under her touch. His body is brooding and pensive as he struggles to tear her hand away from his body, even though he wished it would stay. “I have instructions I must follow.”

  
“From who?” Castiel asks, his face showing slight discomfort and anger. Evangeline’s eyes turn sideways to glance at Castiel, his shoulders square and broad, fitting his appearance nicely. Evangeline’s lips turn up into a breathtaking grin, and that is exactly what it does to Dean, causes him to inhale sharply.

  
“God,” Evangeline murmurs, turning back to Dean, to let go of his bicep and drag her fingers over his prominent jaw line. One that has made many woman fall to his feet, and it certainly attracts Evangeline.

  
As Evangeline looks into the beautiful green eyes of Dean Winchester, the room begins to shake, a sudden, earthquake like shake, causing Dean to grab hold of Evangeline’s delicate waist between his large hands.

  
Bobby, Castiel and Sam were all fiddling around, trying to grab onto something as the house shook violently. With a final shake, Evangeline’s bright blue eyes roll into the back of her head, scaring Dean slightly as she threw her head back and screamed,

louder than anyone had ever heard. Her straight white teeth visible from behind her lips, the scream erupting her lips was fit for a god. Her scream didn’t stop, just growed in magnitude, making everyone in the room substitute to covering their ears with their hands, everyone except Dean was huddled over trying to escape the sound, and Dean just continued to clutch the woman, trying to help her.

  
With a sudden intake of breath, Evangeline’s screams stopped, and she fell into Dean’s arms, her eyes rolling back into place and her body as weak as ever. Dean’s sympathy rose momentarily, as he picked her up, hooking his strong arm underneath her knees, and using his other arm to support her back, he walked over to the mattress Bobby liked to keep in his study and lay the beautiful Evangeline down on the blanket, letting her delicate head of hair sprawl around her.

  
“What the hell just happened?” Bobby groaned, lifting himself off of the table he had been clutching to, his eyes finding Dean who was crouched next to Evangeline, stroking her hair summonly. Her eyelids fluttering open at Bobby’s words, crow’s feet developing under her eyes from the energy she has just been drained of.

  
“God,” She coughed, her chest heaving, trying to bring some air into her lungs. Evangeline reached for Dean, grasping his shoulder for leverage, as she pushed off of the bed into a sitting position. Dean’s hands finding Evangeline’s hips, helping her sit up straight. “He has plans for you.”

  
With a push and a heave, Evangeline is back on her feet, but still in Dean’s arms. This rarely happened with Dean, that from one look he was so infatuated with a woman, a woman so heavenly, yet so deadly. Sam and Bobby were as surprised as Dean was, their eyes following the way Dean looked at the woman already, and they knew, for sure, that this was going to be a bumpy ride.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry if this is a little raw, and crap.  
> But I am not a fabulous writer. Tried to convey the beauty, love and raw sarcasm that Evangeline seems to radiate, so here you go.

“Plans?” Bobby Singer groans at full velocity, bringing the whole stubborn, agitating, old man facade to life. “Why the hell would he have plans for us, woman?”

  
The homeless-like dressed Evangeline sat on one of the rickety, old, wooden chairs placed around Bobby’s equally as rickety, old dinner table. Her long, slender leg crossed over the other in a manner she found rather unlady-like. Why women were doing it, she would never understand.

  
Her lower body clad in a pair of worn in track pants that Dean had come up with, and thank the heavens it still had a drawstring, otherwise the men in the room would have seen her lady parts; which Evangeline wasn’t the keenest on. Sam had, somehow, found an old sweatshirt that seemed to have gotten too small for him about ten years ago. Her effortlessly shiny and beautiful, mousy brown locks in a wonderfully scruffy, high ponytail, Evangeline had been pretty reluctant to tie up her pride and joy, but went along with it as Dean combed it through and tied it up like he knew what the hell he was doing.

  
Evangeline turned to Bobby, her eyes bright with amusement, her right hand wrapped around the lukewarm mug of instant coffee that smelt wonderful, but tasted like, week old dishwater.

  
“You are incredibly debonair, aren’t you?” Evangeline mused, her now lipstick free lips curled up into a sly smirk. Evangeline had been the least co-operative person the Winchesters, Bobby and Castiel had ever encountered in their whole existence, and they didn’t hide their annoyance at all; which Evangeline found rather amusing.

  
“Please tell me your stubbornness isn’t contagious!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in a fit of outrage. This only made Evangeline’s amusement grow and blossom into a pretty little flower in the gardens of Sarcasm.

  
“No, there is enough stubbornness between you four boys to feed world hunger,” Evangeline joked, taking a sip of her lukewarm dishwater, the liquid certainly didn’t go down well with her taste buds, but she let the liquid glide down her esophagus.

  
Though, she never broke eye contact with the delicious Dean Winchester, his generous face showing nothing more than frustration as he throws his hands up once again and storms out of the room, sending Evangeline into a full blown parade of smirks and sass.

  
“Gee, it must be someone’s time of the month,” She jokes, heavily.

  
Fingernails tapping plastic, pages of old, dusty books being turned, tapping of cheap boots on creaky hardwood floor, and multiple crashes from the other room, but no one looked away from Evangeline, even Evangeline didn’t, she just looked at her reflection in the, now cold, liquid in a cracked mud brown mug, the ripples of her breath on the surface distorted her appearance in the milky brown dishwater.

  
The light outside soon turned to dark, leaving the five people basking in candle lit light, the scentless candle doing no wonders for the damp smelling wooden cabin. The five people sat scattered around the room, doing whatever they can to keep themselves from going insane with boredom.

  
“Okay,” Evangeline moans, slamming the rather fragile book she held in her hands, about Greek mythology shut, although she knew everything about it anyway. “Please tell me, that there is something to do around here.”

  
The four boys lift their heads to look at the tired looking woman, sat cross-legged on the dirty floor of the study, just a few meters away from where Castiel was stood leaning against the badly wallpapered wall.

  
“You’re doing it, darling,” Bobby informed Evangeline, causing her the groan and fall back onto the floor with a soft thump. Before lifting her head back off of the floor to take a look at Dean, whose eyebrows rose practically to his hairline.

  
“Can we go get food?” Evangeline muttered her blue eyes alight with want, begging him to say yes. And anyone who knew Dean would know there are three things he never says no to. Food, Alcohol and Sex.

  
“Do you have any money, Evangeline?” Dean asks his pretty lips pulled into a smirk, one that infuriated Evangeline and aroused her just the same. Evangeline rolled her eyes at him before sitting back up on the incredibly dirty floor.

  
“Stop calling me Evangeline for God’s sake, he is my father and he isn’t even allowed to call me that,” Evangeline grunted.

  
“What shall we call you?” Castiel spoke up, his voice slightly filled with fright. Castiel wasn’t the bravest of angels, but he certainly was one of the smartest.

  
“Eve,” She smiles.

  
Eve pushed herself off of the floor into a standing position, her feet bare and the track pants pooling at her slender feet, her hands finding her tiny behind and brushing the dirt off of it, letting it fall back onto the hardwood floor. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed together, his soft-looking lips pursed lightly as he watched the woman that he was growing to dislike.

  
“That name is reserved for Eve, of Adam and Eve,” Sam snapped, crossing his arms across his very muscular chest, that many women have had the privilege of running their hands down, feeling pressed against their breasts, just the thought made Eve flush.

  
A bright smile found its way to Eve face, her arms crossing across her generous chest, her half teardrop nose scrunching slightly and the corners of her eyes wrinkling attractively.

  
“I agree with you, Sam.” Eve murmured in thought, her slender fingers caressing the fabric of Sam’s worn sweater, her arms still crossed stubbornly across her chest.

  
“Then, why are you insisting we call you Eve?” Sam inquired, his lips pursing further, as his frustration grows. A beautiful, yet devilish smirk worked its way to the surface, Eve’s lips curling with the smirk, forming a pair of the cutest dimples that Dean had ever witnessed in his lifetime.

  
“Because, Sam, I am Eve.”

  
Silence filled the air, so silent you could hear a pin drop. It wasn’t a pleasant silence, like most, rather an appalled, shocked silence.

  
And, on that windy, cold mid-winter day, a thin layer of fog covering the horizon, the patter of rain on the metal roofing of Bobby Singer’s shack, and the distant creaking of the wind against the many old, trashed cars out the back of the house, the five people sipping on dishwater, and discussing the next step on the job with clashing opinions and words thrown around the room, bouncing off of the horridly wallpapered walls, scattered with poorly made bookshelves, stacked to the brink with books on every subject. Everything fell into place, every legend, every word written in the bible.

  
The Winchesters knew that God must have sent the Archangel there for a reason, but that reason was unclear at that very moment, but what Dean didn’t understand is why God sent a woman stronger than the almighty lord himself, to do such a useless and meaningless job.

  
Whatever is bound to happen in the Winchesters life sure would happen with a bang, and a big bang it would be.


End file.
